


Falling

by Yuki119



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuki119/pseuds/Yuki119
Summary: Calamity Ganon is defeated, but his influence still rules throughout the lands of Hyrule. Link and Zelda set out to restore the kingdom, while the Yiga Clan doubles its efforts to finish what Ganon started. Post-Canon Ending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in years please be gentle with me.

Calamity Ganon was defeated.

 

It had all been over with so quickly. The final strike of Link’s arrow was loosed into Ganon’s malignant form and it had sent things into final motion, releasing Zelda from her century long fight.

 

In a flash of light, she had appeared, golden and firm and every bit of Goddess Hylia’s reincarnation, unmoving before Calamity Ganon’s maw as the black malice shifted and swirled in the air above and lunged toward her in a desperate attempt at a fatal blow. His body coiled like snakes and the blackness that had loomed over Hyrule for a century came crashing down upon her.

 

Princess Zelda raised her hand in the air, the triforce of wisdom burning through her palm, searing like a brand, as a blinding light surrounded her in a sphere of gold. The light ripped through Calamity Ganon’s charge, lancing through the mass of dark energy and with a final roar, the serpentine maw of malice had dissipated into the wind like ash after a fire, coalescing and collapsing into a single dark sphere that disappeared within the blink of an eye.

 

And like that it was over.

 

The air rang with a sudden clarity as Zelda lowered her hand from the air, the light from the triforce fading back into her palm, turning to the subtlest of glows, as the wind settled the dingy edges of her prayer dress around the tall grass of Hyrule Field.

 

The sky was dark, but clear. The humming of the cicadas at first nonexistent but now the loudest sound one could hear, almost deafening.

 

Link quickly dismounted from Epona, patting her muzzle briefly before running up the hill where Zelda stood. The last he had seen her, she had shoved him out of the way of a Guardian's deathblow, the light of her triforce and her golden hair the last thing he saw before his century long slumber. And now, as he slowed his approach upon her figure standing serenely amongst the plains, it was ironic to think the first time he would see her in one hundred years would be her saving all of Hyrule with the very same power that saved him all those years ago.

 

Link slowed his approach. She was almost untouchable, standing there in the purest color of silk white he had ever seen, the halo of her hair crowning her figure, ethereal and sacred like the carvings he had seen in the Forgotten Temple.

 

“I've been keeping watch over you all this time,” her voice rang out like a clear bell, an echo amongst the fields. “I've witnessed your struggles to return to us as well as your trials in battle. I always thought — no, I always believed — that you would find a way to defeat Ganon. I never lost faith in you over these many years.” Her voice was sharp and gentle,  “Thank you, Link...the hero of Hyrule.”

 

“May I ask,” she turned upon his approach and his breath caught, her smile bright as the sun on it’s longest day, “do you remember me?”

 

A beat passed.

 

His voice came out in a hushed whisper, as if it had been the first time in a long while he had allowed himself to speak — a tone she had always found surprisingly gentle for someone touted as the boy of prophecy and legend — and she reveled in the softness and familiarity of it.

 

“Aye, Princess. How could one forget?” It was soft, a whisper on the wind she strained to hear, but she heard nonetheless.

 

Zelda’s heart swelled. The last she had physically seen him he was unconscious in her lap in the damp fields of Fort Hateno, battered and bruised, his face covered in a smear of mud and blood. His heartbeat had been a mere stutter in his chest, before she had commanded the Sheikah take him to the Shrine of Resurrection. And now he stood in front of her, alive and _insistent_ on bowing before her — out of duty or habit, she was unsure, but his knee hit the ground and his head bowed in subjugation as if a century had not passed.

 

Zelda marched the few steps toward him, the bottom of her prayer dress catching on rocks and dragging through the dirt. She didn’t care. The battle was won and she had spent the entirety of the last century in the confines of her white prayer dress, once a source of serenity and calm, now a reminder of the void of darkness she had spent fighting Ganon in.

 

He kneeled before her and as she neared his head only bowed deeper, the long strands of his hair hanging in his eyes and catching on his lashes.

 

“Link.”

 

He could see her sandals — the laces marred with hardened mud from a century ago and he wondered briefly how so much had changed over the course of his slumber yet some things had not changed at all, as if they were in stasis and just waiting to be set back into motion once again.

 

“ _Link_.”

 

His head snapped up at the command in her voice. It was the gentle curve of her brow that he noticed first, eyebrows arched in a worrisome pattern. She stood before him, the unmarred sweep of her golden locks flowed down to meet the cascading fall of her dress, the power of the Goddess still flush over her aura as the remaining malice that surrounded them faded away into wisps of smoke. The sun, before hidden behind a wall of darkness, now glinted brightly upon his face.

 

“Stand,” she said firmly. Her blue eyes caught his as he stood and she remembered how different their lives had been 100 years ago, and how hopeless things seemed to be (the princess with no power and her fallen hero)  — and now she was looking at her appointed knight, _her friend_ , in his too blue eyes, watching his fair hair sweep across his face in the wind and it was suddenly all too much —

 

Tears welled up in her eyes and as soon as he righted himself she lunged forward, her arms finding purchase behind his neck as she shoved her tear stained cheeks into the crux of his shoulder, swallowing back the burning cries that threatened to escape her mouth. She caught a glimpse of his lips dipped into a subtle frown before she buried her nose into the soft fabric of his tunic, and it hurt — the last 100 years, _they hurt_ —

 

It was all she could do not to bury herself in the crook of his shoulder permanently and melt into a puddle of tears. They had won and she was happy, but the face of her father, of the Champions, of all the Hylians and their allies they had lost along the way — they flashed before her eyes and lingered at the back of her every thought. So much time had passed and yet it felt like only yesterday when she walked through the castle gates to face Ganon alone, bearing the loss of her final Champion.

 

Then, stiff arms gently curved around her back and suddenly she knew everything was going to be alright. Link’s arms squeezed her sides, a reassuring gesture that caused her heart to swell with familiarity. There would be plenty of time to mourn everything that she, her friends, and Hyrule had lost, but for now Link’s grounding grip on her back made it feel like everything was going to be alright — that _she_ would be alright.

 

Link’s sword and shield dug into her arms, but she pressed harder, relishing in the feel of _anything_ other than the void of cold darkness she had become familiar with, and she sighed in relief. A century long fight was over and she was exhausted, her body all but collapsing, and she stood gripping her knight for dear life knowing he’d catch her if she should fall.  Her tears steadied, and she took one last sigh to right herself before she pushed him back gently with the palm of her hand.

 

Zelda quickly brushed the remaining tears off her cheeks, standing tall, and smoothed down her dress, “Tears are unbecoming of a princess.”

 

Link gave her a pointed look. One that could only be interpreted as _that's ridiculous_.

 

She gracefully chose to ignore it, instead turning to face Hyrule field. The sun had risen to its uppermost point, making the gold flaxseed and wheat shine like spun gold along the grassy plains - a stark contrast to the glazed purple haze that had glossed over the land like ink. Hyrule Castle sat in the middle of the field, no longer surrounded by malice and darkness, instead crass in the light of day, the gray of the stone jutting up and cutting into the sky, almost jarring.

 

“Link,” Zelda started, hearing him start to attention behind her, “...I...I wish to visit the castle.” It was a fool's request, she knew, but felt it proper before starting the next league of their journey. _A farewell of sorts_. Before she could properly turn, she heard the sharp sound of him whistle — a startling note amongst the crickets and cicadas that thrummed in the tall grass — Epona cantered over to them, dismissing her grazing entirely to nudge at Link's side.

 

Link drew Epona close and Zelda approached her slowly, extending a hand to the horse before running her palm up to scratch behind the ears. Epona’s coat was a glossy mahogany, the kind that reminded her of the bark of the trees right outside her study; the stark white hair of her mane and tail like that of pure white clouds visible amongst the hazy fog of wintertime from the castle windows. Zelda ran her hand up to pat Epona’s neck, not surprised at how soft the hair there was. “She’s beautiful.”

 

Link patted Epona’s flank as he made a noncommittal sound and went about checking and making adjustments to the saddle and bristle. He jumped up then, mounting the saddle in the blink of an eye, smooth and unhindered, and extended his hand out to Zelda.

 

She clasped her knight’s hand without hesitation.

 

***

 

They stood at the castle gates, the gray of the stone worn and cracked, a ghost of what it once was. Zelda approached the open gate, touching the stone wall with her palm, feeling the cracks and juts that marred the structure.

 

“I was… only ever able to chance a few brief glimpses of the castle...when I could spare a chance to look over you when Ganon was weak, but this…” she leaned her forehead against the rock and sighed.

 

They were ruins — spires jutted into the air waving tattered Hyrule flags, golden statues of the Goddess Hylia crumbled into pieces at their feet, rooms and walls had caved in amongst themselves leaving a smattering of rubble amongst the castle grounds.

 

She turned, sparing a glance back as the weight of what still must be done suddenly settled upon her form.

 

Evening had set, and Zelda grasped her arms as the air had chilled considerably, the crickets restless and loud in the overgrown grass they stood in.

 

She shook her head. “...I am unclear on what I - what _we_ should do. Impa may have some insight into what our journey may heed. Perhaps a visit to Kakariko should be our first priority. We should leave immediately.”

 

“No,” was all Link said, brisk and sharp in the evening air.

 

She was so used to his silent presence that she startled, blinking twice at him before registering what he said. She straightened. “Is it not wise to journey to the Sheiks? I would think now with the threat of the Calamity gone, immediate action into restoring the kingdom should take precedence. I am unsure of what that implies, but Impa and the Sheikah may have some clue-”

 

“Rest first. We'll journey tomorrow.”

 

She was taken aback, her head was still spinning with everything that had to be done. “Ganon is defeated,” Zelda started. “Who knows what could happen now? The kingdom is finally free from Ganon’s hatred, but it has no ruler to lead them, the kingdom is still in shambles, and I just can’t sit by and wait-”

 

Link lifted a hand, subtle and quick enough to miss if she hadn’t been looking directly at him while she was talking. His face looked to the ground, as if choosing his words carefully - not scolding, but something else she couldn't quite decipher. “With all due respect, Princess, you have just fought for a century. Rest for an evening.”

 

Her mouth gaped closed as she watched him turn and pet Epona’s mane. She busied herself with her hands. _A rest?_ She had rested for a century, seemingly in stasis as she watched everything around her hurtle forward and now she was playing catch up. Her kingdom was finally out of its plague of darkness and now had a chance to be restored to glory. “Link, do not consider my silence as agreement. I am still-”

 

“There is a stable at the midpoint of our journey,” he quietly interrupted. He turned and faced her, head tilted in a way she couldn’t quite read. A silent pleading maybe? “We'll rest there and it will be only a short travel through the mountain pass to Kakariko. Less than a day's journey from the stable.”

 

“Link, as Princess I —”

 

“ _Please_.” His eyes reached hers and she paused. His voice was even and quiet, but his fists were practically clenched at his sides. When she surveyed his face she saw the smudge of dark circles clinging to his skin, and realized that not only was he looking out for her, begging her to rest, but needed the respite himself. She had become familiar with the mental and physical ache of tiredness, the thought of restoring her kingdom keeping her exhausted body upright, but her appointed knight had spent the past year training, regaining his memories, restoring the Divine Beasts, only to end up fighting Ganon’s malignant form in a fight he barely scraped by in hours ago. The only reason he had not collapsed at this point, was because his will to watch over her far outweighed his exhaustion. This was for both of them, she realized.

 

Zelda took a shuddering breath, giving in, and nodded slowly. “Fine. I trust that you know best.” She could hear his sigh of relief from where she stood and it made her lips curl up into a soft smile. _Had he always been this animated?_ She couldn’t quite remember, but it made her chest tight when she glanced up to catch the blue of his eyes and the tiniest of smiles flit across his face, a smile that felt familiar and warm.

 

 _Ah_. Zelda watched Link pull out an apple for Epona and gently swat away warm darmers that came to dart around his golden hair. He mounted his steed with a breeze of comfort, making a soft sigh as he landed, and gestured for Zelda to get on.

 

_I’ve missed this._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having fun getting back into writing, so I hope you enjoy!

They arrived at Wetland Stable shortly before the moon crested in the sky. 

 

Zelda’s eyes traversed the wooden structure of the stable, the open-frame doorways trimmed by a pine green curtain, presumably to be drawn when the weather became too chill. It had everything to catch your attention — gold, red, and green flags draping amongst the canopy sheets, a small structured windmill that tapered to a point, and a carefully constructed plank statue of a horse built upon the roof of the stable. Zelda had traveled to plenty of stables before the Calamity, but the buildings were simpler 100 years prior — four walls and a roof for the horses were about as elaborate as they got. Seeing the colorful structure looming over them was an entirely different experience than the chance glimpse she caught of it when overlooking Link’s journey. 

 

They dismounted and Link ushered her in, leaving Epona behind to be taken care of by the stablehand. Link addressed the stablemaster, a man with a small figure and kind eyes — Lawdon, she heard him say. They entered a common room with beds aligned along the back wall, the same canvas like fabric draped over the beds in a canopy of greens and golds. Several other patrons were already asleep, and Zelda wondered if they knew of the Calamity — if they knew Ganon had been defeated and the malice gone, or if they would find out on the morrow when they would gaze on the castle’s silhouette free from the haze.

 

Link looked over his shoulder and gestured for her to find a bed. She found one on the far right, next to a reading table with a single candle that smelled as if the wax had been mixed with coarser bee honey — the smell reminded her of the sweet treats the castle cooks would make using the honey they got from the forest west of the castle. 

 

She sat on the bed sighing in exhaustion, her fists bunching in the green fabric of the comforter, soft and cool to the touch. When she glanced back up, Link was leaned heavily on the counter inches away from Lawdon’s face, whispering. Lawdon’s deep eyes shifted from Link to the Princess, his gaze dropping to the muddy hem of her dress, and back to Link with a swift nod. Zelda strained to hear them, but deemed it useless — she could barely hear Link talk when he was standing right next to her —

 

Zelda busied herself with her sandals, untying the laces and stripping off the worn leather. They were softened from use and frayed, the very same shoes she wore when they were fleeing out of the muddy fields of Fort Hateno, trudging through the swampy dirt and tall grass, retreating for safety. She chucked them against the wall.

 

A pile of garments were tossed onto the bed next to her, breaking her concentration. Link stood beside her, unhooking his quiver and propping his bow on the wall next to the bed. 

 

“Stablemaster has a daughter about your size,” he said, gesturing to the dusty pink tunic and brown pants he had set beside her. Her hands drew to the fabric, the cloth scratchy and well worn — the stitching visible at the seams, hand-woven and loose at the edges. It was homely and comforting, and put her mind at ease.

 

“Here,” he said, helping her to stand. Link pulled the top cover off the bed and stood holding it out, creating a makeshift changing room for her, angling it towards a wall where no one could see her. They were in a stable — they didn’t offer many accommodations. A bed and a nice, quiet place to board your horse was as fancy as any of the stables in Hyrule got — charming, but practical.

 

She clutched the garments to her chest and rounded into the small haven of her makeshift changing room. Her prayer dress was something of pride — a garment made of the finest silks and gifted to her from her father when she became of age to pray by herself at the Temple of Time — a devout bestowal to the Goddess Hylia. But when she undid the gold clasp around her neck and it dropped to the ground, pooling around her feet, she felt nothing but relief. The last physical remnants of her long battle behind her, memories the only shimmers left. She covered herself in the rough fabric of her new tunic and pants and the weight lifted off her shoulders. She sighed, sinking into the peaceful solace for just a moment.

 

When Zelda rounded the sheet, Link flicked his wrist gracefully and the cover was neatly placed back on top of the bed as if no one had ever moved it. He turned down the covers, allowing Zelda to get settled in bed, as he took her prayer dress and carefully began folding it. Upon catching Zelda’s curious gaze, he packed it into the pouch at the small of his back. “It draws attention.” 

 

_ Bad attention. Enemies attention.  _

 

“I guess walking around Hyrule in a white gown would look odd,” Zelda mumbled, tucking herself under the covers and laying her head down on the pillows. She swore her body melted into the mattress, so tired she was barely able to witness how quickly Link dropped cross-legged to the floor beside her bed, his back leaned up against the side with the Mastersword placed gingerly in his lap.

 

“Are you not sleeping?”

 

“I am,” was his simple response. He settled his Hylian shield next to him, dropping it perfectly within arms reach, his bow and arrows propped up against the wooden walls to his left.

 

“Are you not sleeping  _ in a bed _ ?” she clarified, watching his head angle back toward her slightly, listening.

 

“Kinda hard to swing a sword when you’re on your back.” She could see him rest against her bed frame as if he were going to sleep, but his hand settled lightly on the hilt of his sword, ready to spring if necessary.

 

She watched his shoulders gently rise and fall with his breathing, calm and at ease, stark in comparison to where they were just a few hours before — in the middle of Hyrule Field facing Ganon’s final incarnate, malice and hatred reigning from the sky, breath heavy with the thick of the air —

 

Now she was in a comfortable bed, the worry of Ganon behind her, and within arms reach of her Champion.The prophecy didn’t predict what she should do after Ganon’s defeat, and it was an odd place to be — free of that ever looming presence she was so used to.

 

Zelda reached a hand out from under the covers and tapped Link’s shoulder softly with her fingertips, brief and firm, the lightest amount of pressure upon the worn fabric of his tunic. “...I’m glad everything worked out.” 

 

Link dipped his head in the slightest of nods, imperceptible if she hadn’t been looking right at him, tracing the candlelight on the part of his face visible to her. She withdrew her hand and turned over in the bed, drawing the blankets up by her face. 

 

“Please get some rest,” Zelda murmured, before closing her eyes to the soft lull of crickets chirping and the smell of honey wax candles.

 

***

 

They had been on horseback for a few hours, Epona cantering swiftly upon the dirt path toward Kakariko. They left before most of the other patrons woke, Lawdon’s shift having been switched out for a young teen named Yolero who was insistent he would find and become the rightful owner of the Mastersword, and that Link’s blade was just a cheap imitation of the sword of legend. While Zelda ignored said conversation, deeming it amusing but pointless, she caught Link several times wander over to Yolero and gesture to the Mastersword, holding it out as if wanting him to inspect it. She was unsure of what was said, but Yolero looked unconvinced and Link albeit defeated by the end of every exchange.

 

They left before the sun properly emerged over the horizon, the only other traveler they crossed paths with a merchant that, according to Link, frequented the Wetland Stable often, selling wares of freshly hunted meat and foraged fruit from the forests east of the stable. Zelda wondered how many times he had traversed this path to pick up on a detail such as that. They arrived near the damp edges of Millennio Sandbar, the opening to Zora’s Domain — the oceanic gleam of the Zora cliffs became present in the distance, the blue hues bounced off the grey of the surrounding stone making it appear as if the ocean had transcended into the sky, bright and shimmering. The silhouette of Divine Beast Vah Ruta stood stark amongst the sharp mountain cliffs, a presence of power and protection.

 

“It’s...amazing,” Zelda stammered, clutching onto the hem of Link’s tunic and a portion of his shield as not to lose balance as Epona trotted along. “I saw the Divine Beasts up close when they were first discovered, and I was able to do a bit of research on them as well, but to see it like this—” She could barely make out the appendages of Vah Ruta digging into the cliffs, but the trunk was raised high in the air, an ever present air of protection over Zora’s domain — a rightful choice for Mipha’s kind, healing spirit. Mipha’s warm face flashed through her mind, and her chest tightened.

 

Zelda stiffened, causing Link to glance over his shoulder. “I think —,” she began, short and quiet, searching for words. “I think I might like to visit them all — the Divine Beasts, I mean — and pay my respects to my Champions, to my dear friends.” 

 

Link stilled, slowing Epona with a small pull on the reins. “That...would be nice,” he agreed, lips pulling into a solemn smile. 

 

Zelda gave a brief smile back - they had both lost all their friends, while never really getting a chance to grieve. They had all been lost, one after the other in quick succession, and all she could do at the time was cry as she and Link ran through drenched fields away from pursuing Guardians. Then Link had fallen in battle, and she barely had time to shout orders to get him to the Shrine of Resurrection before she was hiding the Mastersword deep in the Korok Forest and heading into the front gates of Hyrule Castle to face Ganon alone. She took a deep breath, caught in her own thoughts, when Link brought Epona to a complete stop causing her to bump into the back of his shield. He dismounted, gesturing for her to stay put, pulling her and Epona near a tree just off the path.

 

“What are you doing?” she started, but was silenced by a simple gesture of his finger to his lips.

 

“Our shortcut to Kakariko is this way.”

 

Zelda watched him draw his bow and crouch, blending into the tall grass next to the marsh - the only clue to his presence the occasional hint of his flax colored hair through the green stalks. In the short distance, she made out a Lizafol camp, the skull carved rock barely visible at first in the swampy trenches. Link’s form was near invisible as she watched him dredge through the grass, quiet and stealthy, arrow nocked and pointed at a Lizafol on watch atop a guard tower outside the camp walls. 

 

Link’s arrow was loosed into the Lizafol’s head with a  _ thunk  _ knocking him off his platform, his scaly body gnarled on top of the ground, still upon his deathbed. Link pivoted quickly, sending a single arrow into one of the openings of the carved rock, aiming high. Suddenly, a crash followed by an explosion went off inside the camp, his arrow having hit something flammable, sending plumes of smoke outside the entrance of the hideout. Link rushed in immediately, the Mastersword replacing the bow in his hand.

 

Zelda sat gripping the reins of Epona tight. This was their first encounter since Ganon, and she was stiff hearing the clank of weapons in the distance. Link had fought the monsters of Hyrule ten times over, but now that Ganon was finally defeated, this was their chance. There would be no more blood moons, no more opportunity for the monsters of Hyrule to resurrect, which meant now they had the chance to free the lands from Ganon’s influence. But each encounter was a risk, and as Link appeared out from the darkness of the Lizafol camp a short time later, victorious and clutching a new spear, clean except for a few drops of monster blood that spattered his cheek, it was apparent that defeating Ganon may have just been a drop in the bucket.

 

Link approached Epona and saddled up, new spear strapped to his back next to the Mastersword.  Zelda’s fingers found the frayed edge of his shirt again, clutching it tight.

 

“How was it?”

 

Link turned and looked back at Zelda, her eyes studying his face from top to bottom like she used to do her research notes, dissecting, analyzing. “Hmm?”

 

“They weren't harder to fight, or anything?” 

 

“No.” He felt her relax behind him as he nudged Epona to move forward with the heel of his boots. They were nearing Sahara Slope, an exhaustingly steep hill just before the entrance to Kakariko. If they could get over it, then it would save them days of having to go the alternative route of trekking across the lower Hylian rivers and the winding loop through the Dueling Peaks.

 

“Well,” she started, her voice crisp in the air. She reached up to tap his cheek with a single fingertip before withdrawing, “Please be careful either way.” 

 

Link’s hand grazed his face, ghosting over where her finger had been, only to see his hand come away with Lizafol blood — a deep, violet red, much darker than Hylians' — and he quickly went about smudging it off with his knuckles. “Aye, Princess.”

 

***

The sun was high in the sky by the time they cleared Sahara Slope and came upon Kakariko Village's entrance — a curving mahogany archway settled into the narrow path, etched with the sign of the Sheikah  — a single red eye meticulously carved into the wood.

 

The carved walls of the mountain rose tall. Kakariko sat in the middle of it, nestled into the cliffs like a secret, the spires of the surrounding mountain peaks the only glimpse out into rest of the world. The village was small but cozy — settled amongst the gently sloping hills of the mountains. The large wooden buildings stacked nearly atop one another, all draped with a matching thatched roof of straw and brimmed with a rich maple wood, tight curving walkways the only separation between the bundle of houses. A stream of small waterfalls fell out of the mountains and dropped into a clear creek that wove its way throughout the village, watering the small gardens and crops that peppered themselves amongst the Sheikah.

 

Zelda paused, her stomach churning in nervousness and excitement — she had waited a long time to arrive back in Kakariko, to tell Impa or her successor of Ganon’s defeat. She was fearful of the future, of all the work that needed to be done to restore Hyrule back to its former glory, but for now she would be happy to glance upon a familiar face.

 

“Impa’s is the largest house at the center of the village.” Zelda followed Link’s guide, coming to focus on a thatched house with a chorus of stairs leading up to its front doors, the entrance framed by a single orange archway and a series of offering plates to the Sheikah ancestors.

 

Zelda huffed, “She always had a flair about her.”

 

Link dismounted and Zelda followed, quickly releasing his offered hand of help in place of dusting off the horse hair on her breeches. He gathered Epona’s reins and tugged her into a small open stable next to the village entrance, a cozy nook next to a budding maple tree, for travelers and merchants to board their steeds for the night. “Rest. I’ll be back,” Link said to Epona, patting her flank.

 

Zelda blinked and suddenly Link had a handful of apples in hand, feeding Epona one, and setting the rest of them at the foot of the stable. Zelda blinked her eyes harder together in fear she was disillusioned, or even worse, fear that she wasn’t. He had a pack at the small of his back, big enough for a handful of elixirs and a few small meals to down on their travels, but no way could it fit all that and the amount of apples she was counting. She huffed out a laugh, flabbergasted, noticing the lack of apple trees anywhere around. “What? Where did you get those? 

 

“Hmm?” Link said, busy feeding Epona the last bit of apple in his hand, while using his foot to maneuver one that had begun slowly rolling out of its pile away from the stable. “My pack.” He gestured to the small pouch tucked tightly at the small of his back, mostly hidden by his shield.

 

Zelda shook her head in disbelief. “They all came out of there?” When he gave a placating nod, she could practically feel her eyebrows raise into her hairline. “Where do you keep all our other stuff? Our food, flint, elixirs?”

 

“...My pack.”

 

Her mind flashed back to before dawn when he had pulled out two wrapped dishes to break their fast, and at mid-morning when he pulled out three stamina elixirs — one for her and two for himself. “How?” was the only word her mouth could form as her logical side tried to make sense of it, and her illogical side tried to figure out what he had done. The coyish hint of a smile that broke across his lips wasn't helping.

 

Link watched her eyeing the apples, the first spontaneous smile he had seen from her since they reunited, before her mind was bogged down with all the worries of restoring her kingdom.  _ It’s nice _ . He fed Epona one last apple before turning on his heel toward Kakariko, gesturing for Zelda to follow him. He put a finger to his lips, his other hand patting his pack. “Another day, Princess. Promise.”

 

“Master Link?” 

 

Zelda and Link's heads snapped to the abrupt appearance of a young woman approaching them, long silver hair gliding down her back, kept out of her face by the traditional headwear of the Sheiks, her eyes round and kind. There was an air of familiarity about her that Zelda couldn't quite place.

 

Her words addressed Link, but her eyes focused only on Zelda’s. Her voice came out in hushed tones, quiet and still in the air as if she might startle them away if she talked any louder. “Lady Impa was notified by scouts outside the village you were here. We were told you might be coming and to make arrangements for your return.” She swallowed hard, a brief smile cracking her lips. “We know. We know about Ganon.”

 

Zelda and Link exchanged glances. News had traveled fast since Ganon’s defeat. Much faster than either of them initially thought. It would only be a few days before the news spread to all four corners of Hyrule. Zelda could not tell if the nervous jitters in her stomach liked this newfound information or not, but she smiled at the young woman nonetheless, happy to see a kind face.

 

The woman saw the hesitation on both of their faces and quickly mended, her face blushing red. “I apologize, I'm rambling on matters that should be discussed privately.” She bent at the waist, giving a curt bow, before speaking. “Lady Impa requests to see you both. If you follow me, I will escort you there myself.” She turned down the path she came, her wooden sandals crunching into the thick dirt walkway, slowing only to check to see if Link and Zelda were coming.

 

They both fell in step behind her. 


End file.
